Spring and summer are always the high season for weddings. These special days are wrapped in the exuberance of nature and its decoration of flowers.  

I recently returned from a beautiful wedding in upstate New York complete with a reception that included a wedding feast, wine and dancing. The reception was held outdoors in a large, white tent illuminated with lights and candles. 

Everything was perfectly arranged with linen tablecloths and napkins, china plates, a buffet of wonderful Greek food and strawberry rhubarb pie a la mode. Dancing was on the lawn after the lawn games for the children were set to the side.

My family travelled from three states by air and car and shared accommodations in a nearby bed-and-breakfast. Among our company were two small children, a 3-year-old and a 1-year-old, whose ordinary routines had been interrupted and who found sleeping more difficult in their unfamiliar surroundings.  

We arrive at the wedding a little after 3 p.m. The ceremony took place at 4, and a leisurely paced reception followed. At 8 p.m., my son and his family headed back to the B&B to put the children to bed. About this time a bonfire was lit for guests to enjoy music, conversation and a nightcap.  

About 9 p.m., the rest of our family started to say goodbye to our hostess, for all of us were feeling a little weary. Freeze frame. Our hostess looked at us and, with first a smile and then an expression of great earnestness, said: “If you leave now, I will never speak to you again!”

As I was considering my response, I thought about the months of sacrifice, planning and preparation that went into the wedding and reception. I thought about the desire of the bride and the groom to celebrate this most significant day with their closest friends and family, a day they want to continue forever.  

I thought about the parents of the bride, our host and hostess, who wanted their siblings and their families to share in their joy. And I realized that this was a kind of icon of the spiritual life.

All analogies are imperfect. Somehow, I do not picture Jesus saying what our hostess did. And yet, I know Jesus’ deep desire to be with us and to spend time with us was similar to the motivation for the words of our hostess. 

Every Mass is a foretaste of the wedding feast of the Lamb that is described in the book of Revelation. And the planning for the feast has been carefully done – for centuries. The table is set. The fine dishes are out. The rich food and choice wine are served on God’s holy mountain. All of it is pure gift, for us, because our presence is so deeply desired.  

Our journeys to the feast, both the ones here and the one described in Revelation, are often long and exhausting. Things happen along the way that demand our attention. We can be tempted not to persevere in our efforts to get there or, once there, we can be tempted to go home early.  

This week, let us think about how much Jesus desires to be with us, so much so that He gifts us with His lasting Presence in the Eucharist and sustains us on our journey with His Body and Blood, real food and real drink.  

It is our time spent with Jesus at Mass or in Eucharistic Adoration that deepens our relationship, increases our desire to be together and unites us with His Mystical Body.

And, by the way, we ended up staying into the next day.